


game on

by anons



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Demon Renjun, Getting Back Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-04-05 22:39:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19049887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anons/pseuds/anons
Summary: Never ever skip reading the Terms and Conditions before playing a game.





	game on

**Author's Note:**

> woohoo!! heavily inspired by the april fools 2010 prank by game station. know what you’re getting into, kids

Slaving over video games is a bad way to send your eyes off to sleep.

This Jeno knows. Yet here he sits at the bottom of his bed, toes dug into some cheap Moroccan rug knock-off he’d scored in the Busan night market for 20000 won and a winning smile. There was something about the dust-covered video game sitting at the bottom of his closet that beckoned him to play it again. It’s been hours since and he’s pretty sure at this point his fingerprints are permanently engraved into the controller.

Dreamgene’s an old indie game notorious for its difficulty. Only 2% have finished the game, its three-paragraphed Wikipedia page boasts, and Jeno’s not a part of that percentage. The game had been a gift to him by an excited Jaemin in 11th grade when they dated. Only briefly though, with college application pressure being the reason of their break up. Granted they don’t talk much anymore but that bitter history between them doesn’t take childhood best friend titles away apparently. Not when Jeno’s mom still makes him deliver lunch boxes and snacks to Jaemin sometimes.

They’re in good terms, at least. Awkward but good.

His phone, sitting beneath his knee, lights up at a notification. When he tries to take a peek, the game decides to fuck him up. An enemy jumps from behind the barrels and proceeds to bludgeon Jeno’s character to death.

 _You died! Repeat this level?_ [Yes] [No], the TV screen asks a dumbfounded Jeno seconds later. He furiously swipes the stupid notification off his phone and throws all his attention back to the game.

He doesn’t think twice.

 

Jeno’s microwave-heating milk for his cats a week later when someone knocks on the door.

“Who is it?” Jeno asks. It’s almost 11PM and dorm visits aren’t allowed unless you’re a tenant in the building yourself. Still, it could be anyone. With his video game heightened sense of reality, he doesn’t let go of the spoon (anything can be a weapon!) and goes to the door.

He repeats, just to be sure, “Who is it?”

“Just open the goddamn door,” comes a muffled but obviously pissed voice. Spoon raised shoulder high, body stanced, Jeno opens the door. Outside stands a boy inches shorter than him, hair a bird’s nest of cheap blonde dye, and in his pajamas. There’s the faintest trace of toothpaste on the corner of his mouth. He looks like a normal, sleepy college student until he utters, “I’m here to take your soul.”

Jeno’s arm drops. “What?”

“Your soul,” the boy sighs, rubbing a knuckle to his eye, “I’m here to take it?”

“I don’t understand.” Jeno frowns.

The boy pauses and for a second, he looks like he’s regretting his whole life. “You didn’t read the terms and conditions, did you?”

“What terms and conditions?” Jeno asks, genuinely confused. Except for his obvious drowsiness, the boy doesn’t look intoxicated but he asks anyway: “Are you drunk?”

“What? No.” the boy wrinkles his nose. “My name’s Huang Renjun, and I’m completely cranky when my sleep’s been interrupted but I promise I’m completely sane. Just let me explain things, okay?” He looks much awake now, and he looks at the spoon, “Were you planning to hit me with a spoon?”

“Of course not,” he says swiftly, hiding the spoon behind his back, “I was preparing milk for my cats.”

Renjun’s face light up. “You have cats?”

Jeno looks down and sees that Renjun’s just in his socks, mostly hidden by his long pajamas. They’re pineapple-printed, and Jeno really shouldn’t make judgements based on physical appearances but he’s pretty sure no murderer would look like _this_. He’s probably just some cute weirdo locked out of his own dorm or someone who wants to borrow something.

“I have cats, yeah,” Jeno says, looking back up at Renjun. “Are you sure you’re not drunk?”

Renjun snorts, “I’m pretty sure.”

“High?”

“Not at all.”

“Coffee, then?” Jeno offers, and if he ends up getting murdered tonight then he wants his epitaph to say he blames it on the pineapple socks. The edges of Renjun’s mouth soften as Jeno steps aside to make way for him.

“I’m more of a tea person,” Renjun says, but crosses the threshold anyway.

 

Apparently, it all has to do with Dreamgene, that sketchy, sketchy game. There’s a paragraph in the terms and conditions that’s supposed to explain it all but as Renjun reads it aloud from his phone, all it does is confuse Jeno more. The conditions are as follows:

_“By purchasing this game, you agree to grant us a transferable option to claim, for now and for evermore, your mortal soul. Should we wish to exercise this option, you agree to surrender your soul or any claim you have on it, within 5 (five) working days of receiving written notification from gamestation.co.kr or one of its duly authorized minions.”_

Jeno’s head is spinning. “Wait, what notification?”

“You activated the game on October 11th, Tuesday last week, correct?” Renjun says, still reading off his phone as he pets Jeno’s cats and he doesn’t even wait for Jeno to respond as he continues, “Well, at that same night, we sent you an email regarding the agreement. It contains a link you were supposed to click and then _voila_ , job done!”

Jeno faintly remembers an email notification from last week he never opened. “That’s insane.”

“I know right!” Renjun says as he squishes Seol’s face, “My mom told me back in the day everything was done manually, house visits and all that just to take souls, but thanks to technology, you can do it through the internet now! Online deal, isn’t that neat?”

“No, no, no,” Jeno says, “I meant this is insane. _This_ whole thing reeks of bullshit. How am I supposed to believe you’re a demon when you look nothing like it?”

Renjun’s eyes glint, looking at Jeno. “Oh you don’t know how appearances can be deceiving.”

“You’re in your pajamas, sitting in my living room, petting my cats,” Jeno says slowly, “And you have leftover toothpaste foam on the corner of your mouth.”

Renjun consciously, swiftly wipes it off his mouth. He misses it a few inches but Jeno’s not about to tell him that just because. “Whatever,” Renjun says, mild embarrassment evident in the way his ears turn pink, “What, would you rather have someone with horns and red eyes and demon wings knock on your door?”

“Well, no,” Jeno admits hesitantly, “but I certainly would’ve believed them then. How am I supposed to know you’re not just some stoned weirdo and that you’re actually a demon?”

Renjun just looks at him, eyes levelled, thinking. Suddenly, Jeno feels it. Creeping up his spine, curling in his shoulder blades. When he looks, the junction between his shoulder and jaw is red with fire. It’s the closest feeling to being burned alive. Jeno yells, tries to put it off—

Then, it’s gone. Renjun resumes to petting Jeno’s cat.

“What the fuck?” Jeno pants, writhing, feeling for his shoulders but only touching the soft fabric of his shirt. He still feels the phantom flame spiking but when he peeks, the skin under his shirt’s still white and unburned. “What the _fuck?_ ”

Renjun shrugs. “You asked for it.”

“What the fuck was that?” Jeno asks, still massaging his skin. At every passing moment, he realizes it doesn’t hurt and it didn’t even _hurt_ at all in the first place.

“A sneak peek,” Renjun says, reaching for the tea on the coffee table and finally taking a sip. His other hand’s still buried in Seol’s fur. “I can’t really show you a lot but that was just to prove that I’m not lying and that you really, _really_ should’ve read the terms and conditions before playing.”

Jeno swallows. “I thought you said it’s supposed to be done online.”

“Oh it is, usually,” Renjun says, fingers curled around his cup of tea, as if they’re casually talking about the weather and not about taking Jeno’s soul, “But in your case, they sent me to come and get you because it’s been a week and you still haven’t responded to the email. I was supposed to come tomorrow but you summoned me so I thought, why not do it tonight?”

“Wait, what?” Jeno’s brows furrow. “I didn’t summon you.”

“What do you mean? Of course you did,” Renjun huffs. “You think I would’ve voluntarily come here in my pajamas? I was already half asleep, jackass. Thanks by the way.”

“I didn’t summon you,” Jeno says firmly, though his fingers are shaking. “I don’t even know how to summon you.”

“Two things, you either unknowingly did some ritual,” Renjun says, holding up a finger, then another as he adds, “Or you did something awful with the video game CD and my boss panicked and sent me to get you.”

Jeno looks at the polka-dotted trash can by the dining table. At the top of the pile peeks the butt of the box, where the video game is in. He’d impulsively decided to stop ruining his life and to throw the stupid, ancient game away. Renjun follows his line of sight and rolls his eyes when he realizes. “Well, there you have it. You can’t do that by the way,” he says, then he looks at his watch, “And uh, as much as it was nice chatting with you, I kind of need to take your soul now.”

Fear sets in Jeno’s body. “What? No!”

“I’m sorry but I need to do my job,” Renjun says, genuinely looking sorry if it weren’t for the way he looks like he’s about to crawl towards Jeno. A predator to its prey. “It’s just a little pain, though?”

“No, no, wait please,” Jeno begs, moving away even before Renjun begins to move in. Seol moves her head under Renjun’s palm, asking for more pats probably, and at that moment Jeno can’t help but think _traitor!_ “Please, the game technically isn’t mine. My ex boyfriend gave it to me as a birthday gift.”

Renjun pats Seol’s head. “It’s in your possession, though. And the email registered in the game is yours.”

“Don’t the terms suggest otherwise, though?” Jeno says, and he shakily reaches for Renjun’s phone from his hand. Renjun lets go of his phone with an indignant and surprised _hey!_ and Jeno shoves the screen to his face, pointing to the paragraph. “Look. Here, see, it reads ‘by purchasing this game.’ _Purchasing_. I didn’t buy it. My ex boyfriend did.”

Renjun blinks, as if he’s considering. For a second, he thinks. Seol’s still begging for more pets. There’s a parade in Jeno’s chest, making his nerves drum. “So you’re suggesting,” Renjun says after a moment, “You’re suggesting I take your ex boyfriend’s soul instead?”

Jeno’s heart drops. “No. No! That’s not what I mean!”

Renjun tilts his head, confused. “Then what do you mean?”

“I’m—I don’t know!” Jeno panics, “Do you really have to do this now? Can’t you give me a chance to discuss this with him, please? I still need to figure things out.”

Renjun looks at something on his phone. Jeno would do everything, _anything_ to keep his (and Jaemin’s) soul. Then, after a few seconds, Renjun slowly nods. “I can give you time,” he says, and Jeno feels like he can breathe again, “Yeah, you should talk it out with him first.”

“Oh my god, thank you!” Jeno cries happily. “Thank you! You’re an angel.”

He realizes what he said but Renjun only laughs and shakes his head, standing up. “I’m sure you won’t be saying that when I finally take your soul,” Renjun pauses, " _Or_ your ex boyfriend’s.”

And he really does look normal like this: finger-combed hair and playful grins directed to Jeno. He even exits through the door with a kind greeting and doesn’t disappear into thin air. When Renjun finally leaves, Jeno’s chest is still a fifty-foot drop away from coming down from its high. He decides that he should probably clean his _demon_ -infested apartment, although Renjun had done nothing but trickle Seol’s hair all over the carpet from all the petting and leave a faint trace of lemon scent in the room.

 _Is that what demons smell like?_ Jeno thinks, admittedly still feeling crazy, as he transports the cups to the kitchen sink.

Renjun’s teacup is long empty. But the glass, he finds, still burns.

 

Across the table, Jaemin doesn’t look happy being there but that’s only probably because 1) it’s 9AM on a Sunday and they’re in a Pancake House booth instead of sleeping in or 2) Jeno sounds _really_ out of it as he currently tries to explain the situation.

(There’s likely a third reason but Jeno’s not about to entertain that thought.)

“So you’re saying,” Jaemin starts, lips spelling unamusement, “You’re saying a demon demanded for _our_ souls last night because of some video game I bought you 3 years ago.”

“Technically he only wants _one_ soul,” Jeno says nervously, “Or that’s what the conditions suggest, at least. An agreement unknowingly happens upon purchase, see,” and he slides his phone to Jaemin, who takes it and reads the terms and conditions with a skeptic face.

“A demon’s gonna take our soul because of a _video game_ ,” Jaemin says, and it doesn’t make sense to Jeno either but he nods sagely. The waiter arrives with their orders: mountains of pancakes and sausages and a clear glass of milk. Jaemin thanks her with a kind smile, slides the phone back to Jeno.

Jeno pokes his pancakes as Jaemin pours maple syrup over his. “I don’t know when he’s coming back,” Jeno says, “but we need to act and we need to act _fast_. He won’t take no for an answer, apparently. We have to outsmart him.”

Jaemin sighs, spreading the syrup evenly. He says, “Look, Jeno, is this really the reason why you wanted to meet up today?”

He and Jaemin make eye contact and he hastily breaks it.

“Of course it is.” Jeno aggressively cuts one of the pancakes, “Look, I know it’s hard to believe but _trust_ me on this. You know I don’t mess around or make practical jokes. I’m serious.”

Jaemin stops Jeno’s incensed hands. “You’re gonna cut the plate,” he mutters, and Jeno shakes Jaemin fingers off. Jaemin pulls away and says, “You’re not really making any sense here, Jeno. You can’t just expect me to believe you about this stuff when it all sounds so silly.”

Jeno leans back, feels his tailbone make contact with his bag. Something blunt digs into the fabric. He remembers he brought the CD box, remembers how he accidentally _summoned_ Renjun using it. He asks Jaemin with newfound vigor, “If I bring him here, would you believe me then?”

Jaemin raises an eyebrow. “Depends on what happens next.”

“Okay,” Jeno says, gulping down a big bite determinedly, “Okay. Watch me.” He fishes out the CD from his bag and Jaemin looks at him incredulously as he stands up. Jeno crosses the checkered tiles, hips past the _WET FLOOR_ sign. Then, he stands in front of the big and obnoxious trash can to shoot the CD inside.

Jaemin jerks, mouths a big _what the fuck?_

Jeno just stands indignantly, waiting for something to happen. Something, _anything._ Renjun could pop off the ceiling for all he cares. Jeno just wants him to appear. Just as a minute passes and Jeno’s starting to doubt and be embarrassed, Huang Renjun walks out the restaurant’s bathroom door, thankfully wearing proper civilian clothes this time.

When he spots Jeno, he marches towards him angrily. “You couldn’t wait until I finished combing my hair?”

“Sorry,” Jeno winces, but he’s still, more than ever, relieved, “I just needed you to meet someone.”

Renjun grimaces when Jeno picks the CD from the trash can, muttering an _idiot, you should just call next time_. He washes his hands in the nearby sink, completes three whole birthday songs till his fingers feel pristine. He wipes the video game with wet tissue as well.

“Well?” Renjun demands when Jeno finishes.

“Well.” Jeno gives him an apologetic smile, “We go to our table.”

“You owe me pancakes,” Renjun mutters as he follows Jeno to the table. He stops when they arrive and realizes that Jaemin’s already staring, mouth agape. “ _He’s_ the demon?” Jaemin asks loudly, eyes almost popping off its sockets, and Jeno would slap his mouth if it weren’t for Renjun asking, in similar fashion, “ _He’s_ your ex boyfriend?”

“Well there you have it.” Jeno stares at the two who apparently seem to know each other, “Jaemin meet Renjun, Renjun meet Jaemin. Or not?”

“We have Econ together,” Jaemin offers as some sort of explanation as they sit. “You’re telling me Huang Renjun from Econ is a _demon_? Renjun, how much did he pay you to put up with this?”

“He didn’t pay me.” Renjun huffs. “If I’m gonna take your soul then you probably should know: yes, I’m a demon, and no, I’m not fucking with you.”

Jaemin snorts. “Yeah right.”

Jeno and Renjun look at each other, and Jeno nods. Instantly, Jaemin is harshly thrown back against the chair. He grips the table, looking astonished to death. “Why does he only get thrown back when I almost burned my shoulder?” Jeno complains at that. “That’s unfair.”

“I didn’t burn your shoulder.” Renjun rolls his eyes, “I just messed with your senses. I’m technically not allowed to burn anyone or anything.”

Jaemin’s still taking everything in, breath ragged. “What the fuck? What the _fuck_?”

“Yep, it takes a few moments,” Jeno says emphatically, chewing on his pancakes. “Just let it sink it. It’s okay.” To Renjun he says, “You should call up a waiter so we can order you pancakes.”

They order and the whole time, Jaemin shifts from looking at Renjun incredulously and staring at his pancakes like they’ve offended him. When the waitress leaves, Jaemin finally gasps, “You’re here to kill us.”

“No, what the fuck?” Renjun frowns, “I’m not the Angel of Death, that's Doyoung-hyung. I’m here to take your _soul_ , not your life.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Well, for one, no one’s gonna die,” Renjun says, “But it’s totally gonna hurt though, just a pinch. And you’re not gonna own your soul anymore. Meaning, the devil could do with you what she pleases. You still get to do normal things but if the devil decides she wants you to do something, bad or not, then you have no choice.” Then, he adds, “Oh, and also she could take your life if she wanted to but she hasn’t done that since 1952, so don’t worry. Questions?”

Someone seemed to have poured cold water all over their table. Both Jeno and Jaemin don’t speak, head spinning in confusion that they can’t even be bothered to question Renjun’s use of female pronouns.

It’s Jaemin who reacts first. “Oh my god, you’re evil.”

For someone who identifies as a demon, Renjun sure looks as hell offended at that statement. “No, I’m not,” he says, mouth forming a pensive frown. “I’m just doing my job. I don’t go around murdering and hurting people, do I?”

Jaemin turns to Jeno. “What are we gonna do?”

The waitress comes with Renjun’s order, and Renjun’s face visibly brightens at that. He immediately eats his pancakes and steals maple syrup off Jaemin’s side. They don’t even mind at all. “The easiest thing to do is to just give me your soul,” Renjun says, peacefully munching on a sausage and Jeno just really, _really_ can’t believe he’s a demon, “That’s it. I’ll do my best to lessen the pain, I promise.”

“Are there no alternatives?” Jeno asks desperately, “No other way for us to not give our souls?”

Renjun’s about to turn them down but his mouth closes when he sees both their faces. He hesitates as he cuts up a piece of his maple-soaked pancake. “I—there is… but—"

Jeno almost yells in relief. “What? What is it? Just tell us, please. Anything.”

“Kun-hyung told me once that there’s this clause somewhere in the terms and conditions that um, states that if the buyer manages to convince the cashier who’d sold it to him to buy it back, full price, it technically cancels out the agreement and disables the game. B-but—”

“That’s it?” Jeno asks, then he turns to Jaemin who’s turned tight-lipped, “That’s it, Jaemin, then we’ll be saved! Do you remember the name or the face of the cashier at that time?”

Jaemin mutely shoves a pancake in his mouth. Jeno feels his lifeline flatten as he realizes. “Oh my god, I remember you have the memory span of a goldfish.”

Jaemin’s nose wrinkles. “That’s not true!”

“He’s right, I’m sorry,” Renjun says, understanding. “You always forget all the assignments and ask me about it all the damn time.”

Jaemin flushes.

“Yeah,” Jeno affirms. “Weirdly, he used to do that to me all the time too when we were still classmates.”

“That’s—I didn’t mean—whatever!” Jaemin huffs, clearly embarrassed. “That’s not the point. The point is that the thing you guys are trying to make me remember is an insignificant detail from _years_ ago. No one would ever remember something like that.”

“Which is exactly why I think this won’t work,” Renjun sighs. “It’s as if I’m giving you guys false hope.”

Jeno looks at the damned CD peacefully situated at the side of the table, wanting nothing more but to hammer it to dust. Unfortunately, that’s not an option and would probably lead to something worse but he won’t go down without a fight. He and Jaemin will find this cashier, he affirms.

“Do you at least know the gender?” Jeno asks Jaemin gently, hopefully.

Jaemin shoves another mouthful of pancake. When he doesn’t say anything, Jeno sighs exasperatedly and Renjun just shrugs unhelpfully. They’re working backwards, it seems. He starts by downing his milk in one go.

 

Jeno is a man with a mission.

The first day: he combs through Google searches to collect tips on how to remember a certain something in the past. He comes up with a two-page long list, hand-writes it on a crumpled graphing paper. Drinking certain vitamins, retracing memories, writing down everything you did that day, and going back to the place to trigger the memory are a number of options.

Second day: he and Jaemin (awkwardly) lunch together as Jeno tries some cheap remembering hypnosis trick he found on YouTube. Jaemin humors him the first time and just blatantly gives up the sixth time. They regain nothing but odd emotions and the memory of them spending five years of lunch together, and Jeno knows even  _that_ he has to tuck somewhere far.

Third day: he’s too busy with Philosophy papers to even think of it but Jaemin texts him for the first time in almost a year. _U free tmrw? we should probably go to the shop, it’s just downtown_ , the message reads. Jeno, head spinning with thesaurus words, only gets to respond in the morning.

Fourth day:

Even the shop interior has changed, Jaemin claims. When Jaemin and Jeno walk inside the video game store that afternoon, plenty pairs of animated eyes stare down at them from shelves on shelves of video games. Eyes, and an obscene amount of red muscles too. Today’s cashier’s a thin-limbed high schooler with a blank name tag and when they ask for the manager, he looks terrified.

“Don’t worry, we just need to ask something,” Jaemin reassures, smiling kindly.

He disappears in the stock room and returns with a youthful blonde woman. “Hi, what can I help you with?” she asks, voice bright and it fits the name attached to her chest: _Sunny_. The boy stands nervously behind.

“Hello, sorry for bothering but may we ask how long you’ve been a manager here?” Jeno inquires politely.

Sunny looks surprised. “May I know why?”

“Um, we’re trying to look for a certain cashier who worked here three years back,” Jaemin explains. “We need to ask them a question about a game I bought from them in the past and it’d be nice if you were the manager then so you could help us out.”

“Is the question something we can’t help you with?”

Jeno shares a look with Jaemin. “I’m afraid not. It’s sort of private, you see.”

“Oh, well I’ve only been the manager here for a year now,” Sunny supplies. “The previous manager retired and move out of the country and that’s about much I can tell you.”

“Can we ask for information on all previous employees, at least?” Jaemin says hopefully.

Sunny spares them a pitying look. “I’m sorry but that’s private data. We can’t disclose that information,” she says, then excuses herself after clarifying that her business with them is done. She smiles to the clerk in parting, “Jisung, I’ll be out back if you need anything else.”

The cashier, Jisung, blinks at Jeno’s absolutely crestfallen face once the manager walks out.

“You should probably write your name on that tag,” Jaemin says kindly, tapping Jisung’s empty name tag. Jisung’s face contorts to an embarrassed smile when he realizes, stammering an apology to the air. “It was nice meeting you, Jisung-sshi.”

Jisung stares at them curiously through the glass window when they leave.

 

It’s dried cuttlefish this time from his father’s work trip in Jeju. His mother tucks it with salted seaweed in a pink lunch box outgrown by his sister. Jeno’s childhood home smelled of seafood his whole weekend visit but he doesn’t mind. He’s pretty sure he’ll miss it the minute he gets back to his dorm and faced with the reality of what he has to brave.

“Tell Jaemin to visit sometimes, okay?” His mother smiles, sending him off to the porch with the lunch box for Jaemin. He doesn’t make a promise but he kisses her goodbye. Everything seems like a dreadful countdown so Jeno whips out his phone, sends Jaemin a text. It almost seems natural now, these past few days.

 **jeno:** i was home the whole weekend but i couldn’t stop thinking about it. i think we need renjun’s help

Jaemin’s response arrives in the third bus stop.

 **jaemin:** we can go to his apartment, if you want

 

Blunt edges press against his throat as soon as the door to Renjun’s apartment opens. “Give me your soul or you’ll die,” says the perpetrator, and Jeno would be terrified if 1) the trident he’s being threatened with isn’t plastic and 2) the 500 won Oni mask on the boy’s face didn’t look pitifully comical.

Jaemin, watching at all, eloquently utters, “Uh.”

“Sorry, sorry,” comes another voice, familiar this time, as the masked boy starts to laugh. “He begged me to allow him to do it.” Renjun appears behind the boy, who has lowered the plastic trident and has removed the mask to reveal the sunniest smile. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Who is that?” Jeno asks, now that nothing’s pressing up against his voice box.

“Zhong Chenle. A rookie demon I was tasked to watch over,” Renjun sighs, stepping aside and gesturing for them to come in. “I’m supposed to help him develop his skill set and expose him to actual demon work but all he’s done so far is set my poor snake plants on fire and send typo-filled emails to clients.”

“Hi!” Chenle grins as they walk inside, his voice absolutely too chirpy for a demon. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Go help with the snacks,” Renjun tells Chenle, rolling his eyes when Chenle salutes and yells out an _aye-aye captain!_ before running off. To Jeno and Jaemin he says, “He’s cute and very much like my little brother but a pain in the ass sometimes, you know?”

Jeno catches a glimpse of a black, burnt plant pot as they sit on the couch. A striking disparity from the rest of the apartment: pale yellow walls and plants gracefully spiralling from every corner. A couple paintings and posters, too. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Jaemin’s the demon from the state of his dorm room and Renjun’s a pure, innocent human.

“I’m not supposed to help you,” Renjun starts, right off the bat. “And even if I did, there’s not much I can do. I only carry out tasks and have no skills or intelligence that can be used to track down what you’re looking for.”

“The manager said information about the cashier can’t be disclosed,” Jaemin says. “Can’t you give us anything? A fake contract? An ID? Anything? Surely they can’t withhold information to those who actually have a permit?”

Renjun shakes his head somberly. “I’m sorry.”

Jaemin’s smile drops.

“Uh, but maybe you can fake documents?” Renjun stammers, seeing Jaemin’s disappointed expression. “Make a fake police ID or something?”

Jaemin looks at Jeno hopefully. “That’s too risky,” Jeno sighs. “She’d check the documents thoroughly and we’d be imprisoned if we got caught.”

Both Jaemin and Jeno sit quietly. Dismal, dejected. Renjun fiddles with his thumbs, looking at the carpet remorsefully. It’s silent until Chenle announces himself, balancing plates and bowls and cups on both hands, and only does Jeno notice a tall boy trailing closely behind. Looking much more alive then they saw him the last time.

“Jisung?” Jaemin blinks as they set down the snacks on the coffee table. “Jisung, hey, it’s you!”

Jisung’s eyes widen in shock. Renjun asks, “How do you know him?”

“He’s the cashier in charge the day Jeno and I went to the video game shop!” Jaemin says, delighted at the coincidence, and it begins a string of introductions and explanations. Jisung Park’s a 17-year-old high-schooler who spends most of his time manning the cash register at the video game shop and tagging along to most of Chenle’s pointless, unofficial quests all around the city. Renjun claims he has known Chenle and Jisung for half of his life, and they often come as a pair.

“Oh, and Jisung’s a goblin,” Renjun supplies casually, biting off his fish cake’s tail.

“I’m sorry?” Jeno raises an eyebrow, “Jisung’s a what?”

“A goblin,” Chenle says happily. “You know, nature’s little tricksters. If you see a flying broom or pot any time in the future, then that’s probably Jisung. He likes scaring people because he’s scared of them himself.”

“Hey!” Jisung protests, “That’s not true!”

“Point is, no one’s human in this room,” Renjun says as Jeno blinks at all of them incredulously, fish cake still in one piece, “Except for you two.”

“Hey Jisung,” Jaemin grins suddenly, holding up his food, “Can you possess this fish cake?”

Jisung lights up and they spend the hour laughing at Jaemin’s flying fish cake. Jaemin has apparently eaten its eye off, making it look extra comical. Jisung, in the fish cake, makes a point of annoying Renjun. He levitates above his hair and Renjun looks like he wants to shoot himself. They don’t have the solution to their problem, not yet, but Jeno’s glad to be spending his days like this. It almost makes him forget about how big the issue is.

Almost, until it’s brought up again before they leave.

“Hyung,” Jisung calls him quietly, shuffling to him as he and Jaemin toe back into their shoes, preparing to leave after an hour of laughing. Renjun and Chenle are cleaning up the plates.

“Hey, what’s up?” Jeno smiles.

“Chenle knows about your situation and he told me earlier in the kitchen. I also overheard your conversation with Renjun-hyung earlier, and uh,” Jisung says, eyes darting around, “I can take a look at the employees’ data in my manager’s computer, if you want.”

Jaemin’s eyes widen. “Jisung—”

“All I need is the month and year you bought the game,” Jisung continues, and Renjun’s still cleaning behind them, stacking up silverware. “Renjun-hyung can’t help, but I can.”

When Jeno and Renjun make eye contact, Renjun just smiles mutely and disappears in the kitchen without a word. Jeno entertains the thought of Renjun being aware of what Jisung’s trying to do and _agreeing_ to it. “Are you sure about this?” Jeno asks Jisung.

Jisung’s smile reaches his eyes, and he thinks of Renjun’s own looking at him and Jaemin. Knowing, relenting. Jisung grins,  “I’m pretty sure.”

 

Jisung’s not on shift until Thursday so Jeno and Jaemin have to wait ‘till then. Jeno doesn’t mind but it’s Renjun he’s worried about. He voices out this worry to Chenle as they sit on Renjun’s wooden floors playing cards. Renjun’s last class finished an hour ago, and he should arrive any minute now.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Chenle says, eyes on his cards. “They’re only light punishments, and Renjun hyung says he can take them.”

Jeno jerks. “He’s getting punished for it?”

“I mean, the soul was due last week, so it’s only natural,” Chenle says. “Irene-noona runs a tight ship, and she wants everything in order and for everyone to follow the deadlines. It’s hard sorting souls, you know.”

Something in Jeno’s chest twinges guiltily. Jaemin asks, “Who’s Irene?”

“Oh, she’s the devil with the capital D,” Chenle says, frowning at the card Jaemin placed as Jeno’s thoughts spin in _shitrenjun’sgettingpunished_ and _thedevilisawomanthedevilisawoman._ “She’s strict and serious because the job’s not easy but she’s actually real sweet. She let me pet her hellhound once.”

“Renjun never told us he was getting punished,” Jeno worries. “Is he getting hurt?”

Before Chenle even answers the questions, Renjun enters the room, dishevelled and looking like he’d just ran to hell and back. His college bag’s swung over one shoulder, and his left arm’s a pale, ghastly red, like a skinned wound fresh from the confines of a bandage. “Sorry, I’m late,” Renjun says hastily. “Something came up in hell and I had to take over a job.”

Oddly, Jeno and Jaemin share a look.

 

Their apology and gratitude don’t come in the form of words or cards, but _sushi_. Jeno and Jaemin take Renjun to a hole in the wall sushi bar and at the sight of Renjun’s arm burning pale still, they tell him to eat as much as he likes.

“It’s not really a big deal,” Renjun insists as they sit in front of the counter. “Just an added load to my work, that’s all. I don’t get harsh punishments.”

Jeno points to Renjun’s arm. “Where’d you get that burn then?”

“Oh, this?” Renjun bends his elbow as Jeno breaks off his chopsticks for him. It looks better than it did yesterday but _still_. “It’s just, uh, I was tasked to clean the lavaside but some of it sizzled and hit my arm. I got it healed but Yerim-noona could only do so much to a second-degree burn.”

Lights hang directly overhead, and bounces off Renjun’s cheek as he and Jaemin begin to chat. The media and folklore’s bad portrayal of demons didn’t exactly prepare him for this: the way Renjun’s dimple easily appears even though he’s not supposed to be laughing with them and should be taking their souls by now. According to everyone, demons aren’t supposed to look like _that._

Renjun and Jaemin turn to him. Jeno swiftly fishes his first sushi off the conveyor belt.

“Jisung told me about his little deal with you guys,” Renjun says.

“Oh, yeah. I promised to buy him a game,” Jaemin replies. “He and Chenle are nice kids. You, too. Still can’t believe you’re a demon and not an angel.”

Renjun looks mildly embarrassed but Jaemin force-feeds him sushi before he can even respond. He chews it, flustered. Jaemin visibly hesitates before turning to feed Jeno as well. “It was the first Mackerel there and I remembered it was your favorite, so,” Jaemin says, face unreadable as he immediately turns away.

Jeno swallows. “Thanks.”

Renjun looks at them strangely but lets it go. Jaemin apparently had pressed _sake_ on the server by accident so they have to down the cups the waiter slides in their table. Jeno winces at the taste settling in his tongue, and Renjun laughs at him. Jaemin chases a sashimi from his seat. Renjun laughs at that as well.

Jeno blames the sushi for the bubbling weirdness in his stomach.

 

These after school meet-ups are beginning to devour bills off Jeno’s wallet. He has finally understood: Renjun’s a demon in the sense that Jaemin and Jeno somehow always end up paying for most of the bills.

Renjun’s a few minutes late today but when he slides on the chair in a smoky cafe next to Jeno, his smile tells them there’s clearly a reason.

“Jisung contacted me last night,” he says in a rush as he grabs his phone from the bottom of his bag. “The cashier’s name is Jung Jaehyun. He’s a student in SeoulArts and he worked in the video game shop briefly in the last few months of 2017.”

Jeno’s heart hammers in hope. “We can go to him?”

“Yeah, he lives in Hongdae,” Renjun grins, showing them an address of his phone screen. “See?”

“Wait, how’d you get that information?” Jaemin asks. “Is that all from the employees’ data Jisung looked into?”

“Well, uh,” Renjun flounders, arm dropping, “No, not really.”

Jeno frowns. “Then where’s it from?”

Renjun busies himself with the books in his bag. “I kind of,” he starts, “Uh, I kinda took a look at Ten-hyung’s computer?”

“Who’s Ten-hyung?”

“He’s in charge of collecting the data of all the cashiers who has ever sold a game. Kind of like the head archivist slash librarian?” Renjun says, scraping his nail against the zipper of his bag. “I looked up Jung Jaehyun’s name and got the information.”

“With permission, right?” Jaemin supplicates.

Renjun shrugs. “I mean, he left his laptop unprotected just like that, so.”

Jeno blinks, trying to make sense of the situation. Jaemin’s looking at Renjun like he’s grown a second head. “You mean to say,” Jeno says, “You stole information from a higher-up’s laptop?”

“Well, if you put it that way, I guess,” Renjun says, laughing uneasily. “I was just gathering intelligence, that’s all.”

Jeno looks at the fading burn in Renjun’s arm, remembers that at every delay, he’s getting punished. And now he’s _stolen_ information. Surely, the consequences are far much worse than cleaning the lavaside this time once Irene finds out. He’s suppressed it for the past week but now he can’t help but ask, “Why?”

Renjun looks at him, surprised. It takes him a few moments to answer. “I’m a demon,” he says, eyes darting around presumably to look for a waiter but Jeno can tell he’s avoiding their eyes, “They can’t expect me to follow all the rules and to not be tempted by classified information.”

That doesn’t answer Jeno’s question. He wants to ask more, to ask _why_ Renjun keeps giving them chances and why he’s helping them but he has a feeling Renjun doesn’t want to answer any more inquiries so he shuts his mouth and flags down a waiter for them to finally order.

 

“Well that looks ominous,” comments Jaemin, and Jeno’s not about to disagree.

The building’s squeezed in an alleyway off the busy Hongdae road. Aside from the dimly-lit convenience store on the establishment’s first floor, the rest is dark. If it weren’t for the Waze woman’s clean cut voice announcing their arrival, Jeno wouldn’t have thought that this was what they were looking for.

“You sure you typed in the correct address?” Jaemin asks Renjun, still looking up at the boarded windows.

“I’m pretty sure.” Renjun rolls his eyes, “I’m not a turd, Jaemin.”

Jaemin removes his gaze from the building to shrug at Renjun. “Just checking.”

“So, are we going in?” Jeno asks.

They walk in, and the old woman in the convenience store’s cashier strangely stares at them through the glass. The interiors are well-kept but there’s something about the moss-colored walls that makes Jeno feel like the building’s been long forgotten by occupants and visitors and everyone in general. Even the stairs creak in protest as they trek up.

“We could’ve taken the elevator, you know,” Jaemin says to which Renjun just whispers back conspiratingly with, “You never know who or what you’ll meet in those things.”

Jeno doesn’t even want to ask.

Jung Jaehyun’s room, according to the crappy picture of Ten’s laptop screen Renjun took with his phone, is on the 4th floor. A weathered chandelier hangs overhead on the second floor. Renjun’s already panting by the third. When they reach the fourth, Jeno realizes.

“Wait, there weren’t any security guards in the entrance,” Jeno remarks. “Aren’t we trespassing at this point?”

“I’m pretty sure the guard probably just took a piss or something,” Jaemin says. “Let’s just explain when we come down.”

Staring at his phone, Renjun points to the second door to the left. “There it is. 404,” Renjun says. When they all crowd to the door, Renjun adds, “Alright, Jaemin. Go knock.”

“What?” Jaemin gapes. “Why me?”

Jeno rolls his eyes. “Just go ahead and do it.”

“Why don’t _you_ do it?” Jaemin shoots back.

“Why doesn’t _he_ do it?” Jeno fires, pointing to Renjun. Renjun glares at Jeno’s finger, pulling it down. It’s probably a demon thing because his touch _burns_. Renjun says, “I can’t do it.”

“Why not?” Jaemin asks.

“ _Because_ you never know what’ll greet you."

Jeno frowns at Renjun. “Don’t you, like, knock on doors for a living? Door-to-door demon stuff?”

“Well yeah, sometimes, but,” Renjun hesitates, looking at the door, “I don’t know. This building is weird. Did you see the woman who smiled at Jaemin in the second floor? Totally not human.”

Jaemin whistles appreciatively, “I know right.”

“I _mean_ it, idiot,” Renjun huffs. “I see souls in hell on a daily basis and I know what stray souls look like. Those who refuse to be delivered to the afterlife. The woman is one of those souls.”

Jeno doesn’t believe in these things but he feels alarm spread anyway. “What do you mean?”

“I mean she’s a _ghost_ ,” Renjun spells it out for them, and even he looks spooked. “Do you guys have any idea how many souls you come by on a daily basis? Are you sure everyone you see and talk to are alive?”

Jaemin just stares at Renjun skeptically, then knocks on the door. No one answers, and only now does it sinks into Jeno that there’s absolutely no sign of life at all in the whole floor. “We probably got the wrong address,” Jeno tells Renjun, also trying to reassure himself. “Jaemin, knock again and if no one answers, we leave.”

Jaemin does. No one answers or speaks, for the next few seconds. Even Jaemin, Jeno can see, is starting to doubt and get weirded out.

“We should leave,” Renjun says, and nobody opposes.

 

Jaemin has to leave for an org meeting but Jeno and Renjun stay behind at a newly-opened food park. Apparently, one of the owners of a food truck is a demon and gives them 20% discount for their orders.

“Sooyoung-noona’s in charge of grooming the hellhound but does soul-taking work sometimes,” Renjun explains as they sit down on one of the benches in front of the truck. “She’s nice.”

“Let me know if you need anything else, boys!” Sooyoung calls with a friendly wave.

“Will do,” Renjun says, smiling. “Thanks noona!”

Jeno’s burger looks mean and tastes unfairly good. The twister fries, too. “This is by far the best thing I’ve eaten in Seoul,” Jeno groans, finger cheese-powdered. “Is this a demon thing?”

Renjun just laughs. “Perhaps.”

Curiously, Jeno’s mind spans to the strange dormitory they ventured into earlier and entertains the thought of it being haunted. The feeling of the place never left him, and he feels as though he took a piece of those moss-colored walls with him. “Did you really get the address right earlier?” Jeno asks.

“I did. I checked it a few times,” Renjun says. “That’s what it says on Ten-hyung’s computer and I’m sure I typed it correctly.”

Jeno flicks sesame seeds off the table. Renjun cups his hand to stop him, shakes his head. Jeno feels something weird hiccup in his chest, the way it has been the past few days, but he manages to say, “Huh. Weird.”

“Yeah,” Renjun agrees, hand retreating and Jeno’s gaze chases it. “That building was totally spooky. Gave off weird vibes.”

“Maybe the address in the data was wrong?”

“Possibly,” Renjun says, and Jeno snaps back to attention. “They’re so meticulous about everything though so getting the wrong address didn’t even cross my mind.” He eyes Jeno carefully, “So what do we do now?”

Oh, right. They’re back to square one, it seems. Jeno listlessly toys with his chopsticks. “Dunno,” he mutters.

“Maybe we could ask around in SeoulArts? There’s always that option.”

Jeno catches a glimpse of the fading scar burn again. Almost a two-week delay, about to hit three. He’s pretty sure the punishments are getting worse, at this point. According to Jaemin, Renjun has been starting to miss classes for the past few days. Renjun’s done so much, and Jeno’s baffled he still wants to do more.

He’s learned to not question.

Renjun’s idly explaining something and he stops mid-sentence when he receives a text. The minute he unlocks his phone, his face registers surprise. “What is it?” Jeno asks, and Renjun only blinks furiously before showing Jeno the screen.

It’s a text from Jaemin saying he did a little bit of research. Then, a screenshot is attached: an internet news article stating that 3rd year star student, Jung Jaehyun of Seoul Institute of the Arts, is to participate in a student exchange program in Australia. Time period: September this year to next year, August.

“This wasn’t in the recorded data. Which is probably why the apartment earlier was vacant,” Renjun breaks it to him cautiously. “Jaehyun’s not in South Korea.”

It sinks into Jeno slowly. Jaehyun already left a month ago. And he’s not coming back until next year.

Which means:

“So we have no other options,” Jeno says, closing his eyes as he takes a deep breath. “There’s nothing we can do anymore.”

Renjun opens his mouth but Jeno cuts him off.

“It’s alright,” Jeno says evenly but inside, he’s a mess. He’d set himself up for disappointment but apparently no amount of mental preparation could cushion the impact when it finally comes. “It’s alright,” he hears himself say, feels himself smile, “It’s okay.”

“Jeno—”

“Let it be me and not Jaemin, please,” Jeno exhales because Jaemin is… Jaemin. Jeno’s known him all his life and he’s not gonna throw him under the bus like that just because of a petty break up years ago. “It’s okay, it was bound to happen anyway.”

Renjun’s face is contorted. It’s not a big of a deal, it wasn’t supposed to be. Authority over his own soul’s much more ideal but at least he’s still got his life. At least Renjun’s here to help. “I’m sorry,” Renjun says, and he looks like he wants to reach out but he doesn’t. A shame, Jeno wanted to know if his touch burned still.

“Don’t be,” Jeno says, impressively still sounding composed. Thankfully, his earlier thought drowns in his head among the rest of his worries.

 

They agree to do it in three days. Or, Jeno insisted, at least, and Renjun had no choice but to comply. Three days, and if there are no other solutions, he’ll accept his fate. Jeno had to fight Jaemin about whose soul to take and for the first time since they’ve known each other, Jeno wins the argument.

“It’s okay,” Jeno smiles at Renjun as Jaemin mutely stuffs his cheeks with kimbap, “You said it yourself that this has happened to other people and that they turned out okay in the end. It’s fine.”

Renjun only purses his lips. 

 

“LEE JENO! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!” Jaemin yells, and Jeno almost trips over Bongshik’s tail as he scrambles to get the door.

It’s D-Day, the last day of his soul at liberty. His last hour of having complete control over all his actions before the devil decides to make him burn his curtains or steal the last slice of pizza during random times in his life. He’s easy prey, he’d been told. Which is why Irene decided to exercise her power over the game and take his soul. Easy prey, and pleasing to toy with, too.

Jeno weakly wishes Irene has his soul now, so she can order him to punch Jaemin for yelling so loud because he knows he could never hurt Jaemin in his own will. He swings the door open.

“Holy shit,” is what greets him along with Jaemin’s flushed, beaming face. “Holy _shit!_ ”

“Um,” Jeno says, holding the door a bit wider, “Good evening to you too?”

Jaemin bullets through a whole paragraph from his phone the minute he steps in, stopping only briefly when the cats pool at his ankles. Bongshik seems pleased at the (very) familiar face. Jaemin continues to talk, and the sentences only boomerang dumbly in Jeno’s head. He’s still blanked out even as Jaemin finishes and grins at him expectedly.

“Sorry what?”

Jaemin huffs but the smile doesn’t leave his face. “I _said_ you’ve got a second chance, idiot! There’s a clause somewhere in the terms that Renjun probably overlooked. It states that if we finish the game, the soul-taking can be withdrawn and conditions can be discussed. Look!” He shoves his phone in Jeno’s face and there it is, in one whole paragraph, a token of his freedom.

“Oh my god,” he exhales, and Jaemin nods, laughing as he picks up one of the cats. Hope floods in his mind. “Oh my god, I can be free?”

“Yes!” Jaemin yells with him, then coos an apology to Nal when she flinches.

Jeno’s mind’s still a jumble of disbelief and excitement. He still can’t _believe_ it. Fingers shaking, he says, “I should probably turn the game on now, huh?”

“I’ll prepare the snacks,” Jaemin proclaims.

In ten minutes they’re already in the living room, the TV blaring the game’s theme song. Bowls of chips and crackers and fruits dot the coffee table which Jaemin claims they will be needing for the next sleepless 12 hours. Luckily, tomorrow’s a weekend.

“Wait, where’s Renjun?” Jaemin asks.

“The schedule’s not until 7,” Jeno says, fingers tapping the controller anxiously, “So he’ll be here in an hour at least.”

Jaemin says, “No, he’ll be here now,” and proceeds to slide the CD off the console for a brief moment and file it back to its case. The TV blacks out. “Oh he’s gonna be _so_ pissed at you for that,” Jeno says, sprinkling a handful of chips in his mouth, but he does nothing to stop Jaemin from shooting the game to the nearest trash can.

The sound startles Bongshik awake, and Jaemin offers a peace sign to the cat as a cheap apology.

Half a bowl of animal crackers later, Renjun comes storming into the apartment. He doesn’t even bother knocking. “Alright,” he growls, “Which one of you motherfuckers did that?”

Jeno points to Jaemin.

Jaemin only grins playfully and says, “Looking good, Injun.”

Renjun’s anger quells, and his cheeks flame instead. A brighter and prettier hue than the orange hoodie he’s donning. “I wasn’t finished picking out an outfit. This isn’t what I was supposed to be wearing.”

“What do you need to look good for?” Jaemin laughs. “You’re just taking Jeno’s soul.”

“It’s my first manual task in a while, okay?” Renjun gripes, walking to them.

“Well, sorry to burst your bubble,” Jaemin says, standing up to retrieve the video game from the bin, “but there won’t be any soul taking tonight. We won’t go down without a fight, you see.”

Renjun sits down as well, grabs a few crackers for himself. He asks Jeno, “What’s he being dramatic about?”

“See for yourself,” Jeno grins happily, and shows Renjun the paragraph from Jaemin’s phone.

Jaemin sits back down after turning the game on again. The theme music trumpets again, and Renjun exclaims loudly in time with it. “Holy shit! Is this for real?”

“Yeah, I took the liberty of reading the whole thing last night,” Jaemin says, picking a character off the screen with his own controller. “I didn’t understand what it meant at first though so I had to research to make sure. Don’t you demons know about this?”

“No one ever told us,” Renjun admits, a bit embarrassed. “We only follow what we’re told to do and that is to take souls. Kun’s the only one who actually read the terms and conditions halfway.”

Jaemin snorts. “You mean you guys don’t read the whole thing as well?”

Renjun shoves a dog-shaped cracker into his mouth.

“And to think you taunted me about reading it the first time we met,” Jeno says as he and Jaemin navigate through the character customization screen. “You haven’t even read it yourself!”

Renjun’s face flares. “Whatever. Just get on with the game.”

Jaemin offers Renjun his controller. “Do you want to try playing?”

“Oh, no thank you,” Renjun says, still scraping the rest of the snack bowls clean. “I’m not allowed to meddle with things like these.”

“He’s also terrible at it,” Jeno says, defending himself when Renjun strikes his arm, “What? It’s what Chenle told me!”

Renjun shakes his head at Jaemin laughing. “Assholes.”

Hours fly, tassels itself into game levels and the number of times _YOU DIED_ flashed on the screen. It’s a given that Jaemin’s staying, with the way he’s settling comfortably beside the cats as he continues to game. Renjun, however, obviously won’t stay. He lives off-campus and probably has babysitting chores to do. Still, Jeno can’t control the way his face pulls when Renjun stands up to leave.

“Where are you going? It’s dangerous to go home at this hour,” Jaemin says, unknowingly tacking a whine to his sentence.

At that, Renjun just laughs and light smears through Jeno’s veins. “Who says I’m going home?” Renjun shakes his head with a smile. “I was gonna go to the kitchen to cook. Anyone wants dinner?”

 

It was okay at first but at every passing day, Jeno panics more and more. It’s been almost four days and they’re nowhere near finished. Adding in to the stress are classes and homeworks and stacks and stacks of lessons. The idea of Renjun continuously paying for their delay, too.

They haven’t seen Renjun for two days.

“We have to finish this,” Jeno stresses, hammering through a wall on the game screen. “For all we know, Renjun’s been receiving harsher punishments so we _have_ to finish this.”

“I know that,” Jaemin mutters. “It’s not that easy, okay? You know this.”

Jeno gives themselves a week, at most. A week and they’ll finish the game. They _have_ to. Jaemin helps even when he’s not supposed to, even when his business with him should be finished and Jeno should be playing this game alone. He starts frequenting his dorm visits in Jeno’s building too and even starts hanging out with him during his off hours. His smile’s brighter than Jeno remembers it to be. They’ve time-travelled to the past, it seems like.

“Why are you helping?” Jeno asks one day as they play the game.

Jaemin doesn’t look at him, shields Jeno’s character from an incoming arrow. He just says, “Just because.”

Hours later, they surpass a level Jeno’s never finished before. Jaemin’s cheeks lift, face glowing in delight. He has lights in his eyes and Jeno has to look away. “A few more levels to go,” he says, holding the controller because if he lets it go he’s afraid he might do something stupid.

“Yeah,” Jaemin says, settling back beside him. Warmth in where their arms are pressing. “A few more levels.”

 

According to the game, it took them 144 hours to finish, also counting Jeno’s progress beforehand. One of the highest records, apparently. Jeno screams in happiness when they finally do.

“I can’t believe we did it!” he laughs, and Jaemin just glazes over him with a grin, fingers on Nal’s fur. “We did it! No one’s soul is getting taken!”

Jaemin says, “We should probably call Renjun.”

“Oh yeah, go ahead,” Jeno agrees, and he stares at the blank screen, blissfully relieved. _Take that, you stupid fucking game_ , he wants to say. _Take THAT!_

Jaemin contacts Renjun but all three attempts direct him to voicemail. “He doesn’t have classes though?” Jaemin frowns at his phone.

“Probably some hell work?” Jeno worries his bottom lip. “Should we summon him?”

“Well if he’s doing hell work then he’ll probably get into more trouble if he disappears from it,” Jaemin sighs, setting Nal down. Nal hisses in protest so Jeno takes him in his arms instead. “I’ll just leave him a text to let him know.”

“We did it, buddy,” Jeno murmurs to Nal’s fur and he purrs appreciatively. He’s never been this relieved and happy before. “We fucking did it.”

 

What they expected: Renjun in Moomin pajamas, pillow imprints on two reddening cheeks, eyes a hybrid of sleepy and furious. Jeno would open the door with a grin and relay the news at 11PM.

What actually happens: the face is familiar but not what they expected. Sooyoung’s fully-dressed for a night-out, lippie stains on dainty fingers and eyes glittering in eyeshadow. Jeno’s happy greeting gurgles in his throat and Jaemin leans across the couch to peek at the door.

Sooyoung sighs, “You couldn’t have done it in the morning?”

“What,” Jeno splutters as Sooyoung breaches through the threshold, unbothered, “Where’s Renjun?”

“He’s preoccupied right now.” Sooyoung scans the dorm, boredom painting her face, “You’re _my_ clients now and I was supposed to come here on Tuesday because I don’t have classes then but I guess we can do it now.”

Jeno looks at her, a bit lost. “What do you mean we’re your clients now?”

Sooyoung says, “Irene-unnie made the decision and sent me instead of Renjun to take care of this thing once and for all.”

“You’re not taking any soul tonight though,” Jaemin says, putting an arm on Jeno’s shoulder. “We beat the game and according to the terms and conditions, that withdraws the deal.”

“Of course I know that, silly,” Sooyoung says, laughing. “I’m here to reclaim the game and make sure you sign the non-disclosure agreement. We can’t have you parading around and telling everyone about this, you know.”

Jaemin asks, “And Renjun?”

“What about him?”

“He played a big role in this. Where is he?” Jeno inquires. “We haven’t seen or talked to him in 3 days.”

Sooyoung summons the video game from the trash bin to her hands. “Oh that,” she hums, encasing the game in a clear box, “I told you, he’s busy. Don’t worry about it.” Then, she whips her phone out to hand it to them, “Sign here please.”

“Um, what are we agreeing to?” Jeno asks, wary this time about what he’s getting into. A demon asking for your soul because you didn’t read the terms and conditions usually teaches you to do that.

“You agree to keep quiet about this whole thing basically,” Sooyoung says. “We’ll send you the whole terms through email. Jenoleehotstuff23, right?”

Jeno flushes at Jaemin laughing. “Shut up, you were there when I made that email in 3rd grade.”

Sooyoung doesn’t slide her phone back to her pockets after they sign. Instead, she responds to the plethora of KKT messages that flood her phone, lip tint painted fingers clicking against the screen. “Good jobs, boys. It was nice dealing with you,” she says, smiling at a message probably, absentmindedly navigating to the door. “Your name’s recorded in the Top 10 players, by the way. Congrats.”

“Sooyoung-noona,” Jeno calls before she steps out the door.

She hums in response but doesn’t look up from her phone.

“When can we see Renjun?” Jeno asks.

At that, she finally looks up. “I’m not sure,” she says, smile guarded this time, “Oh and also, I’m at work so please call me Joy.” Seeing Jeno and Jaemin’s confused expression she adds, “All demons have a nickname resembling their personality so it protects their identity whenever they work.”

Jeno thinks of Renjun telling Jeno his real name, right off the bat. He wonders why but then again Renjun never asked him why he invited Renjun in for coffee that night as well. All is fair.

“We never found out Renjun’s nickname,” Jaemin wonders out loud. “What is it? Smartass? Cutie? Graceful? Dreamy?”

“Prince?” Jeno supplies helpfully.

Sooyoung laughs at them. “Oh my god, I can’t believe this,” she says. “No wonder Renjun willingly got into trouble for you two. You should ask him about his nickname when he comes back. Gotta go now, good night!” She crosses the threshold with necromancy in her pretty fingers and Jeno feels an imaginary single string cut off from his soul, just like that.

 

It’s Chenle who breaks the news to them.

“Renjun hyung’s been suspended for 40 days,” he says, toying with his chopsticks. “He won’t be able to attend classes and contact anyone outside of hell either. He wanted to tell you guys but he got summoned before he even got the chance to.”

“You mean we won’t see him for more than a month?” Jeno ruffles.

Chenle nods somberly. “I’m afraid so.”

“He’s gonna miss almost half of the semester!” Jaemin fusses, knife winking in the light as he cuts vegetables for the hotpot. Renjun’s favorite.

“Irene-noona’s got it covered,” Chenle says. “You know that haunted dormitory building you guys went to? Apparently that was a trap. Only Ten-hyung can see the _real_ information in his laptop’s employee database. The address Renjun saw was a trick and what you guys saw was an imaginary building used to expose meddlers by capturing their faces on CCTV. That’s how Renjun-hyung got caught.”

Jaemin stops cutting. “Holy _fuck_.”

“Yeah, but he says it’s okay though,” Chenle says, solemn eyes staring at the smoke rising from the pot. “Renjun-hyung argues it's  mild punishment and could’ve been worse. Meddling with deals usually results to 3 months suspension or revoking of one's demon ID.”

“How’d he get off the hook?”

Chenle leans closer to Jeno to stage whisper, “Everyone in hell’s got a soft spot for Renjun. Even the devil herself.”

 _Can’t blame them_ , Jeno thinks. Says, “Can’t we at least say goodbye or apologize for getting him caught or something?”

“I’m afraid not but you can read his message for you guys though,” Chenle says, whipping out his phone. Jaemin almost drops the ladle in haste to get to the table. The crowns of their head touch as they lean in to read the text.

 **renjun** : this is probably gonna be my last text but pls tell jeno and jaemin to suck it up. oh and also tell them to take care of my plants. i’d give the task to u but ur forgetful as fuck so

“Why’d I even expect it to be something sweet?” Jaemin sighs but he sounds relieved knowing Renjun’s still got his snark, at least. Keeps them at ease that he’s doing fine. “Wait, what about the plants?”

“I’ll transport it to Jeno-hyung’s apartment tomorrow,” Chenle says, sliding his phone back to his pocket. The responsibility washes off some of Jeno’s guilt, at least.

 

In some time and space between the plant-moving and dripping ice pops all over the wooden panels and walking Chenle to the bus stop, Jaemin must’ve realized something because as they part in the pathwalk separating their dorm buildings, he calls back to Jeno and says, “Dinner tomorrow?”

Jeno looks back at him. Replies intelligently with, “Huh?”

“I can cook us dinner,” Jaemin says, stepping closer to Jeno, “and help you water the plants. I’ll bring treats for the cats too.”

“Okay,” Jeno replies because there’s really nothing else in his throat but an agreement and a bit of choked up air maybe. “Okay, yeah, that’s nice.”

But of course that’s still some sort of mixed signal in Jeno’s mind. Like everything Jaemin’s ever done and said ever since he broke up with Jeno three years ago and still wanted to be friends. What isn’t a mixed signal is when Jaemin stares at him and sends nothing but bright smiles his way the next night as they chat among the alarming amount of aloe vera pots. It isn’t a mixed signal when he finally, _finally_ presses up against Jeno and whispers a three-year due apology against his mouth. Not a mixed signal when Jeno almost overwaters Renjun’s ferns because, really, there’s not much he can do when Jaemin’s teeth is scraping against his bottom lip.

“Wait,” Jeno says, pulling away, feeling only a part complete. “Wait, what about Renjun?”

“What about him?”

“You know what I mean, dickhead,” Jeno says, pinching Jaemin’s neck.

“Alright, alright, you got me,” Jaemin says, squirming away from Jeno’s touch. He looks at Jeno hopefully. “We should probably talk about it?”

And they do, over naengmyeon and store bought kimchi rice balls. It’s obvious, this part. They both have feelings for Renjun as well, as confusing as it may seem. Jeno never thought he’d ever like two people, let alone ever _consider_ dating them both all his life. But here he sits, swirling his naengmyeon in silverware and feeling like he’s ten pieces away from solving a 5000-piece puzzle.

“What if the feeling’s not mutual with Renjun?” Jeno asks, doubtful.

Jaemin only kisses him, lips leaving a trace of kimchi sauce at the corner of Jeno’s mouth. It dilutes the taste of worry on Jeno’s tongue.

 

They dress Chenle’s birthday cake in disaster. Jaemin puts too much icing (“There’s no such thing as too much icing, Jeno!”) and accidentally puts seventeen candles instead of eighteen. The last one Chenle can blow from the lighter instead, he argues. Still, Chenle kisses his cheek and Jeno’s too in gratitude.

“What about Jisung?” Jaemin lowkey taunts. “Jisung helped with the decoration too.”

Jeno coughs a smile to his fist when Chenle presses a kiss on Jisung’s reddening cheek as well. Chenle cuts the smallest slice of cake for Jaemin as revenge. Jeno lets Jaemin have half of his.

“You know, this is the first time I celebrated my birthday without Renjun-hyung,” Chenle admits, icing on his nose where Jisung put it earlier. “It feels different without him.”

“Do you really thinks he’s okay?” Jeno asks. “I know he got off the hook easy and all but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s being punished. What if he can’t finish all the tasks?”

“I’m worried too but I think he’s gonna be okay,” Chenle smiles. “He won’t admit it out loud but he’s one of the most capable demons out there. Why do you think he’s everyone’s favorite and Irene-noona sent him to take care of me?”

Jeno hums, a bag of thoughts loaded off his head. “Yeah. That makes sense.”

“26 more days of waiting,” Jaemin says, and Jeno ticks off a date from his imaginary calendar. “26 more days until he comes back.” Chenle gives them a quizzical look but smiles at them nevertheless.

 

Jeno and Jaemin relearn each other all over again in that span of 40 days. So when the day comes, Jaemin can tell Jeno’s nervous. He sees Jeno’s anxiousness and excitement buzzing in his body. Feels it through his lips, too.

“Hey, _hey_ , It’s gonna be okay,” Jaemin laughs against his mouth. “Not much is gonna change whatever happens. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

“You can tell me that when you start your 2nd year of college expecting nothing to change but then you somehow suddenly manage to summon a demon and get back together with your ex,” Jeno grumbles.

Jaemin snorts. “I did those things, though.”

“Oh?” Jeno raises a brow, moving his face away from Jaemin. “ _You_ got back together with your ex?”

“Yes, and he’s gonna regret it if he continues to be a little shit,” Jaemin says, kissing him one last time before standing up. “Get up, loser. I still have to sprint to the other side of the campus for a class.”

The rest of the day breezes by uneventfully. Jeno sleeps through last period. Jaemin skips his. He tells Jeno that Renjun didn’t even attend today’s Econ class. When the night comes and they’re certain they’ll finally see Renjun again, they’re a hopeful mess waiting in Jeno’s living room. Surely, Renjun would prefer coming _here_ since he has to take back his plants and all. But he doesn’t.

At 8PM, Jaemin calls Chenle.

“Hello?” comes Chenle’s voice from the receiver, on loud speaker, “Jaemin-hyung?”

“Chenle, hi,” Jaemin says. “Um, has Renjun arrived?”

“Oh, yeah. We met for breakfast but he left shortly after. He’s been out the whole day.”

Jaemin looks at Jeno. “Did he—did he say anything about planning to meet us?”

Chenle’s voice crackles. “Um, no. Sorry, hyung. I’ll let him know you called?”

“Yeah, sure. That’d be nice, Chenle,” Jaemin says faintly. “Thank you.”

But nothing happens that night, not even a call back or a text from Renjun. Jaemin waters all the succulents and Jeno all the vines. They share worried looks over Renjun’s photosynthesizing plants.

 

“Maybe he’s busy catching up on classes,” is Jeno’s reason and what they believe in for the next six days. They don’t go to his dorm to give him some space and privacy and the freedom to decide when he wants to see Jeno and Jaemin. He doesn’t even attend Econ anymore. And his plants have grown an inch taller under Jeno’s care already.

“Do you think he’s blatantly ignoring us?” Jaemin sighs. “I asked Chenle about it and he told me Renjun told him he’s doing great and still attending his classes.”

Jeno thinks of all the crap Renjun probably had to go through for _them_ in hell and feels guilt coat his chest. “I mean, I can see why he’d do that.”

Jaemin stays quiet, twirling the edges of his shoelaces.

“Hey, _you’re_ the one who told me to affirm that everything will be fine,” Jeno says, nudging Jaemin’s shoulder, trying to lighten up the atmosphere.

“I know that,” Jaemin sighs, “but…”

“We still need to return his plants, you know,” Jeno says, looking at the pots scattered in his apartment. Emeralds swaying into the air.

“Do you think he’ll hate it if we come to visit?”

Jeno smiles, tight-lipped. “There’s only one way to find out.”

 

They manually carry the plants off the campus, obviously. They’re no demons or goblins and they sadly don't have the ability to teleport it to one place or another. The grocery cart from the nearby mart Jaemin “borrowed” off the parking lot helps though. It reduces the back-to-back trips to only four.

A girl whose name tag reads _Herin_ sees Jeno and Jaemin heaving the plants outside Renjun’s apartment door. It’s the last batch by that time. Jaemin two-finger salutes and gives her a friendly grin. Herin salutes back, perplexed, before walking inside her apartment with a confused smile at the jungle outside.

“This is all 21 of them?” Jeno asks, breathing still uneven.

“Yeah, that’s all of them,” Jaemin says, drinking off a water bottle. He only consumes half and offers the other half to Jeno who accepts it gladly. They sit side by side on the carpeted hallway, among the plants, waiting for Renjun to come home.

Renjun appears on top of the stairwell by 7:30. By then, Jeno’s character had been killed off his phone screen a total of three times.

“What,” Renjun starts off, “the fuck.”

“Oh, um, hi,” Jeno says, standing up with Jaemin. His elbow hits an arrowhead. Renjun looks as good as ever. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Renjun says, fiddling with the strap of his shoulder bag.

Jeno clears his throat. “We wanted to return your plants.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Renjun replies unsurely, looking at Jeno and Jaemin each. “Thank you.”

Jaemin asks, “How come you don’t attend Econ anymore?”

“Oh, that,” Renjun says, laughing feebly. He steps near the plants, gingerly holding a date palm between his fingers. “I don't attend that class anymore. Irene-noona reorganized my schedule, so.”

“And you can’t even be bothered to call?” Jaemin says, and Jeno’s pretty sure he didn’t mean it to sound as sharp but it does. Jeno holds his wrist in warning. Renjun purses his lips.

“I didn’t think you wanted me to,” Renjun says, looking at their hands now that Jaemin’s twined it together. “Chenle told me you guys got back together? That’s great. Congrats.”

“Yeah we did,” Jaemin says, holding Jeno’s hand tighter. “And we wanted to talk to you about it.”

Renjun’s eyes snap to their faces. “Talk about what?”

Jaemin exhales. “We both like you, Renjun,” he says, and Renjun's eyes scream. “We already talked about this and we both agree that we want you to be together with us.”

Jeno asks hesitantly, “Would you like to be with us?”

Panic masks Renjun’s face. He looks at their held hands, then their faces. Jeno’s first, then Jaemin. Jeno’s heart has bludgeoned off his chest, at this point. His breathing doesn’t even seem like his own. “Is this a joke?” Renjun finally says, laughing a bit crazily. “You’re joking right?”

“No, we’re not,” Jaemin says, eyes a bit hurt. “We’re serious. We both want you to be with us.”

Renjun swallows. “I’m—I—” he says, “I don’t know.”

The silence that follows pains Jeno. By the time he feels his own breathing back, he tells Jaemin, “We should probably leave now.”

Jaemin looks at him, then at Renjun. Jaemin nods gravely, like there’s been a mistake about it all. Jeno tugs him across the carpet and they maneuver past Renjun’s jungle, shoulder past his contorted face, his pursed lips. Only when they step in front of the elevator does Renjun say, “Wait!”

They both turn to him slowly.

“The plants,” Renjun says, now gripping his shoulder bag tight. “I need help carrying the plants inside.”

Jeno and Jaemin look at each other. “Can’t you transport it inside with magic like Chenle did?” Jaemin asks, and it’s then that Jeno realizes. The leaves from Renjun’s tallest plant tickle his flushed cheeks but highlight his determined eyes.

“I can,” Renjun swallows, giving them an embarrassed smile, and _boy_ did Jeno miss that smile, “but looking at you leave made me realize that I’d prefer if you guys stayed and we did it together.”

All three of them clearly have a lot to talk about.

 

(It’s Starlight, apparently, Renjun’s demon name.

“Makes sense,” Jaemin says, abandoning the game screen in favor of staring at Renjun. “Did you know your eyes twinkle when you laugh? Must be why you got the name.”

Renjun rolls his eyes but he can’t hide the way his reddened cheeks lift up.

“Get back to the fucking game, Jaemin,” Jeno scolds, axing another character on the game screen. “If we have to repeat this mission again, I swear to God you’re not stepping into my dorm for a week.”

“Jeez, calm down. It’s not my fault you get killed off every 10 seconds,” Jaemin says, snort turning into laughter when Jeno pokes his side. Renjun watches them with a smile.

“Did you guys read the terms and conditions of this one at least?” Renjun asks, looking at the abandoned pamphlet on the table. He flips to a random page and starts reading. “Oh, would you look at that! There’s a clause here saying the next one to get killed is a fucking loser and has to order _chimaek_ for dinner—ouch! Ouch, hey, I was joking! I’m joking, babe, here’s what it really says—”)

**Author's Note:**

> 1 renjun thought jeno looked, with a capital g, Good the first time they met and vice versa, hence they trusted each other. but dont do this in real life kids you'll end up getting murdered  
> 2 jaemin's MO apparently includes asking ur crushes about homeworks everyday. it works 90% of the time
> 
>  
> 
> i am so so SO bored pls send prompts to my tumblr (@lunarsmilk). ty for reading ily all


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